


The Face of Death

by InSpaceYoghurt



Category: Broadchurch
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Major Character Injury, Tumblr Prompt, actually sad, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:00:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23208157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InSpaceYoghurt/pseuds/InSpaceYoghurt
Summary: Person B knowing they're undoubtedly about to die within the next few seconds (minutes, in this case), likely from the gaping wound they're bleeding out from. Instead of calling for help, they phone Person A and carry on a casual conversation as if nothing is wrong, making sure to mention how much they love them (sorta) before their time runs out.
Relationships: Alec Hardy/Ellie Miller
Comments: 26
Kudos: 107





	1. Alec Hardy

He doesn't exactly know what's happening. Actually. Scratch that. He knows he's going to die, no doubt. He's going to die in the middle of a field, with no one else to find him. He could call an ambulance, yes. But would that really make a difference? No. He'd be dead by the time they got there, no doubt. For some silly reason, blood is vital to live, and with the size of the wound located just below his abdomen, he knows that he doesn't have very long.

He hadn't meant to get stabbed. Well, no one means to get stabbed. If he weren't – er – wasn't (present tense, for now) such a bloody idiot, he probably could survive. If he had waited – damn if just waited a little longer – if he waited for Ellie to get out of her meeting, he wouldn't be out here alone. But, alas, there he was, laying in tall grass, silently regretting everything he had done.

But he had a phone. And he had a few minutes to spare. If he was going to die, he wanted to use every last bit of energy he had left to live out his life as a regular human being. As much of a drama queen that he is, as Ellie had repeatedly told him this past week, he wasn't about to go die in some dramatic way… staring out into the never-ending sky, while watching the sun set. If only…

Grunting a bit as he pulled his mobile from his pocket, he rang up one of the only people who would actually care if he were gone. And as much as he hated to admit that people cared about him, he knew that Ellie was a genuinely important aspect in his life. They had grown so close to one another over the many years they had worked together.

"Hello?" he heard a soft voice over the phone.

He smiled a bit, knowing that the last thing he was going to hear was her voice. But suddenly, his vision went dark.

 _NOT BLOODY YET,_ he told himself, then applied a grueling amount of pressure on his abdomen, making him gasp out.

"Hello?" Ellie asked again, over the phone, this time sounding more worried.

"Hey, it's me, Hardy," he said weakly over the phone. He gave a gritted smile, hoping it would improve his tone. The last thing he needed was for Ellie to start worrying.

"Agh, I know, you wanker," Ellie said lightly. "Lucky for you, I just got out of my meeting. Any sooner and I would have murdered you for calling."

 _You wouldn't have to, though,_ he thought, sadly. But he couldn't help but smile when she said that. It was hard not to smile when she gave her threatening remarks.

"Anyway," she continued. "What do you want? We can go out for fish and chips, if you like – actually, no, don't answer that. I already know your going to say no."

He smiled again, but then silently winced when an excruciating pinching pain shot through his body. "Can you do me a favour?" he asked, now noticing his body was shaking, doing his best to not show any signs of anything out of the ordinary.

"Erm, yeah, sure," she answered. "I mean, depending on what you need. I've gotta pick Fred up from daycare soon."

"Er, yeah, of course," he said, focusing on the blurring greenery around him. "Wee Fred growing up, isn't he?"

There was a bit of silence, but then she spoke again, this time sounding concerned. "Are you alright?"

Panic rushed through his body. He would have tried getting up, waving his hands in the air in denial, but there was no way he had the strength to even sit up any more than he was. So instead, he calmed himself down before speaking and said, "No – just – just making common talk with a – er – friend."

He cringed when there was a silence on the other end of the line. From all the time he spent with her, he knew what different silences meant, and this was definitely not one of the good silences.

"What sort of favour do you need, then?" she asked, the concern in her voice not faltering.

"Er, yeah. Don't question why I'm asking you this," he said carefully.

"Hardy…"

"No, just, hold on a second. Just, can you pick Daisy up and take her to the Latimer's? She and Chloe had something planned tonight," he said, thinking of the big plans they always had on Friday evenings. The two would talk for hours on end, planning what they were going to do every Friday. Something about going out to the beach and then grabbing some desert – something like that.

"Oh," Ellie said over the line. "Yeah, no problem. See you tomo-"

_WAIT! NO DON'T GO!_

"Ellie?" he asked, now noticing his breathing was getting heavier.

"Why'd you just call me Ellie?" she asked, and not out of plain curiosity. It was out of plain suspicion. He could just see her now, her face flooded with that same worrying look she had given when she had been told who had killed Danny Latimer; it was a painful stare with a wide open mouth and wide eyes.

"Can you tell her – t – tell her to remember that I love her, and that I will love her no matter what," he said. Shit. He'd blown it. He knew it. But he couldn't let Ellie slip away, so he added, "Me and her. Not on – on good terms right now. Could you tell her this. You two – close right? Spending more time? She'd understand from you," hoping his last sentence would fix it.

It didn't help that his words kept falling apart. That they were becoming broken. He wanted to cry so badly. But he didn't. He wasn't going to let it slip. And then, for what seemed like forever, he just laid there, silently. He pondered whether or not he should tell her he loves her.

He really did – does – he does love her. And not just because he needs someone to love him back because he was dying. No. That wasn't him. He had genuinely grown to love the badass cop that was Ellie Miller. She was always there for him, and she had become such an important person in his own personal life – not just in his work life. Though he still refused to go to the pub with her on those few Friday evenings that the office went down together to, and he still mumbled great snarky remarks at her, he loved her. And that was something that she deserved to know.

But just because she deserved to know this, doesn't mean it was the right thing to do. Hardy looked down at his bloody stained shirt. His hand was covered too, and his vision kept getting blotchier and blotchier. No. Instead, he decides to spare her the pain. It's easier to move on when you don't love something. The more attached you are, the more there is to lose.

"Sir?" Ellie asks, sounding more and more panicked by the second. "Hardy? ALEC!"

"See y- you t-t-tomorrow, y-yeah?" he says in ragged breaths. "Tell wee Fred to go – go easy on his mum. She does a – a lot for him. And Tom."

"Alec, I swear if you bloody hang up on me now, I will beat your sorry arse when I see you next," she says angrily, over the phone.

"And, Ellie?" he adds, knowing fully well he's down to his last minute. "Don't forget that – tha – ye need -"

And he drops the phone. Again, not purposefully, but when his vision goes out and his body goes limp, there's not much he can do.

"Sir?" she cries, over the phone, knowing that something isn't right. "Alec, please. I love you."

And there it is. Three words he always wanted to hear. 

Any other time, and those words would have been pushed away; forgotten, even. They would have seemed to be nothing but random spurts of a sentence that meant nothing. But not now. Now, it meant everything in the world, and Alec Hardy would forever be grateful for it.

_I love you back, too._

"Alec?"

\---------------

She hears a loud garble on the other end, and what sounds like painful wheezing. 

Shaking her head violently, she rushes from the parking lot back into the station. 

_Alec Hardy, if you bloody die on me..._


	2. Ellie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What if the roles were reversed?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha! I had to have multiple comments remind me that this was unfinished so thanks to all of you who reviewed this.  
> I really don't understand why y'all liked this one, but ya know. I'll finish it off anyway. One less fic to worry about, yeah?  
> Legit didn't know how I wanted to kill Ellie. I thought it might be too OOC for her to NOT call an ambulance because I know she would be livid if Hardy wouldn't call an ambulance. anyway. Yep.   
> Happy reading.

Where she sat couldn’t be any more ironic. Wincing, she tried to sit up, doing her best to not get sand in the large gash in her abdomen. Her vision was going spotty and her senses seemed to dim. The normally silent waves of the sea crashed and echoed with rage in her mind. She hated it.

If she was going to be wounded or hurt by a suspect, of course it would be on a bloody beach below those godforsaken cliffs. She wondered if the suspect, who was long gone by now, would make it look like an accident. She wondered if her death would be one like Danny’s.

But, then again, it could never. What Danny had to go through was so much worse. Maybe this was her punishment. Maybe this was God’s way of making things fair. Her husband killed Danny and the brilliant copper wife was laying next to the murderer, unsuspecting and faithful to her husband.

She hated the way she thought sometimes. She hated her thoughts in general, sometimes.

_Call someone! You have a phone! Call an ambulance! Now! You have time!_

But did she really? What time did she have? If the knife had been left, she might’ve had the chance, but she knew she didn’t. The knife had been pulled out. The second she left pressure off of the wound she would be dead. Even with the pressure, she’d be dead in minutes.

She wanted to wail, to scream for someone, but even trying to take a large breath hurt. So, instead, she sat on the beach with silent tears strolling down her face. She needed to tell someone. Anyone. She didn’t want to die alone.

She fumbled to find her mobile. Every second of movement was excruciating. Once again, her vision darkened, this time for longer. She shook her head as if it would shake away the darkness consuming her, and thank God it worked.

She carefully typed in a set of numbers and pressed the call button.

“Miller? What are you doing up this late at night?”

The second she heard the rough Scottish voice on the other side she wanted to let out a laugh. Was she really doing this? Was her last call really going to be with the cold and grumpy, thin and grouchy, job-stealer detective? But that was her problem. She’d learned to love someone everyone rejected. She’d learned to love a person everyone said was broken, even more than herself. She’d learned to love someone who had a broken heart and someone who wore a mask to cover his true self. And, of course, she’d learned to love someone who couldn’t love her back.

“Miller?” he asked again, sounding tired but concerned.

“Yeah,” she managed to say. She tried to clear her throat. “What are you doing up then, wanker?”

She heard some sort of groan on the other end of the line. “You woke me up, then, just to call me a wanker?”

“So you – you were sleeping?” she asked, keeping a tight smile on her face despite the pain rushing through her body.

“What do ya need?” he asked.

Ellie didn’t have a response. _She needed an ambulance. She needed love. She needed someone to talk to. She didn’t want to be alone._

“Miller, are you alright?” the voice asked again, this time sounding more alert and awake.

“Don’t,” she said. “I need to ask you something, alright?”

“Out with it then, Miller,” he said.

“Ok… more like tell you – tell you something…”

There was silence on the other end.

“The case. The case. The suspect,” she said. Once again, her vision was darkening and her thoughts dissipated to the unknown. She tried pushing down on the gash again, this time with more force. She winced. “We need to check the boy… the seventeen year-old. And his father.”

“Where are you getting this?”

“Just. You’ll have everything you need… tomorrow.”

“Miller, stop being so vague and so bloody enigmatic. You’re sleep deprived and not thinking properly. We can talk about this tomorrow, alright?” he said, but in a softer tone. A lighter tone. A _kinder_ tone. She loved it.

“Tomorrow? Okay?” he asked.

_No! Don’t go!_

“Wait!” she cried out. And even though she cried it out, her voice was barely audible.

“What? Miller, I think you’re breaking up.”

“Tom and Fred!” she said. And then it hit her. Tom and Fred would have no one. They wouldn’t have a dad or mum. Not any more. She cried. This time, she properly cried.

“ _Ellie?_ Woah, woah there. It’s alright. Just, unlock your door. I’m on my way.”

“N-No!” She let out a wavering breath, trying to calm herself and let out a fake laugh that made everything sound worse. “I just – I don’t… No. I’m f-fine.”

“You’re obviously n- what’s that noise?”

“What noise?”

“The – Ellie I swear… are you at the beach?”

“It’s a nice – nice night,” she said. She looked up at the stars above her. It was true. The skies were clear. Mostly. The small dots that painted the sky blurred into bright glowing orbs. “Needed some air…”

“What about Tom and Fred?”

She tried not to cry again when he said their names, but she couldn’t. “I just… the sky is s-so nice o-out. You should look out too.”

“Ellie, whatever it is you need, please. Just tell me. I want to help – agh. You know I’m not good at these things! Just… you’re not alone. If you don’t want me you have so many friends. Call the Latimer’s or you’re sister. You’re crying and you are not okay. So let _someone_ help you.”

She stayed silent for a long time. Too long.

“Miller?”

“Look. Look at the stars. Tell me what you see.”

“Ellie. I don’t…”

“Just… please…” she sighed. She could feel her body weaken as her arm started to slide and her eyes started to close. She did her best to look up. The night was truly beautiful.

“Tell me what you see.” Her voice came out as a whisper.

“I -” he cleared his throat. “Stars. White. Bright. Glowing. Some are twinkling, I suppose. There’s a red tinted one just to the right of the Big Dipper. Erm. Yeah. Bright balls of hot gas.”

She managed to pull a smile at that. “Keep going. Please.”

“What do you want? A bloody Charles Dickens novel about the stars?”

She wanted to laugh again. Maybe that’s how she wanted to go. She wanted to die happy. If she was going to die today, she wanted it to be now. She wanted it to be with happy thoughts. And if she couldn’t be talking to her boys, she wanted it to be with Alec Hardy.

“Yes.”

“You should have called Latimer…” he paused, “but if that’s what you really want, I’ll do my best.”

“Alec. Alec. You know that I… I…” She paused. Why break his heart now? The man had gone through so much. Telling him she loved him now would be even worse than not saying anything at all. He didn’t deserve any more heartbreak. She silently finished her thought and looked up at the night sky. Ready, she let go. The last thing she pictured was a happy image of her, her boys, and Alec Hardy. Maybe that could have been her future. But it wasn’t. She had to be content with what she had.

Alec waited for a response he never got.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha ha. This is probably one of the most OOC fics I've written but that's ok. And also. Grammar. That's a problem. I think my English teacher would have a heart attack reading this but ya know.   
> Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> So. Here you are. At the end. To be honest, I think I could have made this more emotional, but it's late and I don't want to. I'll most likely edit this tomorrow... but until then...
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
